


Maintenance

by thelilnan



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Arguing, Gen, How Do I Tag This, M/M, Possessive Hannibal, i guess, one-sided, uh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-30
Updated: 2013-04-30
Packaged: 2017-12-10 00:21:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/779649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelilnan/pseuds/thelilnan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will got sunburnt and now his skin is doing this dreadful <i>peeling</i> nonsense. Hannibal is ill-at-ease, seeing his precious little Will all... flaky.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>(just a silly little drabble about prissy!Hannibal's hygiene standards)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maintenance

He notices the itching straight away. The digging little motions beneath the neck of Will’s t-shirt. The distraction. The  _noise_. Hannibal suppresses a shudder and snaps his attention from his paperwork to the younger man sat across from him.

“Stop that.”

He looks, but does not look at Hannibal.

“What?”

“Stop scratching. It’s annoying. Why’re you so itchy?”

“I got sunburnt last week.”

As if Hannibal could forget. The line of angry, red skin against pale, the shifting, moaning discomfort of his little friend. It had been interesting to say the least. Given him wonderful little thoughts. But now, not so interesting. Now is troubling and irritating.

“Yes, and?”

“… It’s peeling,” Will says at length, tugging the back of his collar open to show Hannibal. Indeed, there are little curls where the dead skin is trying to flake away, causing Will no small amount of discomfort in the process. While Hannibal’s heart bleeds readily for the man, a larger part feels nausea straightforward.

“Ugh!” He sits away sharply, as if it were some infectious disease that might catch him across the space of the two armchairs, “That settles it, get out of my office.”

“What?!” Will demands, brown eyes pleading and confused. Oh, those eyes. If Will knew what he was doing, those eyes could be the end of Hannibal’s resolve. But he holds fast against the endearing onslaught, mouth set into a tight line.

“Get out. I will not keep company with someone so revoltingly negligent about their personal care.”

“What??” Will repeats. A hand has strayed again to itch at his shoulder beneath his shirt. Hannibal’s skin prickles with ill-ease.

“Personal grooming is very important, Will,” he bites acidly, “Otherwise, you’re an animal. I will not stand for such a thing in my presence. Our sessions are suspended until you can better take care of yourself and you quit this dreadful  _shedding_.”

Again, the shorter man is enraged by Hannibal’s  _reasonable_  standards, which is an unfortunately good look on him. It’s regrettable that Will is so careless in his personal maintenance, else Hannibal might use that provokation to more productive means. Will does look so nice in the midst of passion... But, Hannibal resolves, the priority now is to teach the man how civilized creatures care for themselves. Perhaps they could have a grooming day, just the two of them. Hannibal's lips curl, pleased by the thought of taking care of little Will while the man, having shouted himself out, grabs his coat and heads for the door, fuming like he’s caught fire and head full of steam.

“Just a week or so,” Hannibal assures the empty room, ringing with the slam of the door, “And we’ll have our little William back.”

He rounds his desk and straightens his files, making everything presentable once again, “Once he’s cleaned up.”

 

End.


End file.
